


Microdosin

by happysoulmentality



Category: Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:14:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25743403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happysoulmentality/pseuds/happysoulmentality
Summary: Just a blurb about getting caught singing along to Microdosin.
Relationships: Daveed Diggs/Reader
Kudos: 26





	Microdosin

**Author's Note:**

> I recommend the entire Seven Nights in Chicago album. I really do. But my favorite is probably Microdosin, so I wrote something based on it.

You had woken up to sunshine on your skin and an empty bed. 

Usually, the empty bed would bother you. Your mind would wonder where Daveed had gone. Was he still in the house? How long had he been up? How little did he sleep? 

But today, you knew he had gotten at least a little sleep last night. He'd consented to you dosing him with melatonin and bribing him with a massage to get into bed before 2 am. 

You also knew where he was, or at least where he went first. He'd left a note on his pillow. One of the hot pink ones you'd bought him after his stint as Thomas Jefferson in that bright magenta coat. It read: 

_ Rafa called me for a meeting at the cafe. I'll bring you back your favorite. - D  _

At least he was gonna bribe you with food and coffee for not waking you up before he left. 

His meetings with Rafa usually lasted the entire morning. Occasionally, the entire day, with them ending up at someone's house for dinner. 

You shot him a quick text to let him know you got the note, and that you were expecting hot coffee before sundown. Then you got on with your day. 

After a quick shower and a fresh change of clothes, aka a clean sleeping shirt and shorts, you realized without Daveed home you could actually listen to his music. Apart from him, but not without his voice. 

You put on Seven Nights In Chicago, his and Rafael's latest album. It was short and the beats were almost hypnotic. You'd loved being a part of it, and a small enough part that you could listen to it without being self-conscious of your own voice. 

By noon, you'd grown bold enough to play the album over your phone's speaker. You were rapping along when the door opened downstairs, but you were so caught up that you missed the sound it made. And the sound of keys being tossed on the couch. And of someone coming up stairs. 

"I'm on my sixth round of this fifth, not even tipsy! DIGGS!" You had started rapping along with Rafael. Something about Microdosin had just caught you and it had become your favorite song on the album, at least for today. 

Daveed stayed at the door to your office, watching you. You were dancing in your chair, following the beat of the song. He wasn't shocked you were listening to his stuff when he left the house. It was really the only time you could. He hated hearing his own voice in play backs. 

But watching you? He could let it slide this once and would gladly deal with listening to the two of your voices together. It actually brought a smile to his face to watch you dance around to it. Still focused on whatever you were doing, but enjoying the beat. 

As he watched, you had to stand to get something and your dancing just got more involved as you stretched to grab whatever you needed off your bookshelf. 

After a few seconds more of watching, and his eyebrows shooting up at one particular line you didn't even stutter over, he bit his bottom lip and decided to make his move. 

_ Microdosin', three-wheel motion _

_ Feel that Oakland, I ain't been home _

_ In a minute, mayn, I miss that ocean _

Your breath caught in your throat on the word "feel" as two large hands grab your hips and a warm body pressed up against yours. 

Daveed was copying your movements, joining you while trying not to break your rhythm. 

"Daveed!" Your hips only made it through two more swings before you managed to silence your phone. 

You turned around to be greeted with the sight of your darling boyfriend continuing to dance and trying not to smile. He eventually lost the battle against his smile and started laughing. 

You crossed your arms and pouted at him. 

"Aw. C'mon that was cute, babe." He danced back towards you, mimicking what he'd seen before you knew he was there. 

"You're right I am pretty cute." You came out of your fake pout and gave him a kiss. "How was the meeting?" 

"You know how those go. We spend about 30 minutes working for every hour we goof off." He had finally stopped dancing and was just holding you. 

"Business as usual, then." You leaned up for one more kiss. "Where's my coffee?" 


End file.
